


The Entities and new Avatars.

by JustACapybara



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Imagine that, The Entities Have Transed Ur Gender, also the web I guess, also the-- y'know what just the whole list of 14, and also ur an evil monster now enjoy, anyway stan The Eye and The Slaughter, be my guest, god idk if you found this and you just want to read a bunch of peeps transformed into avatars, i am not biased i promise, i seriously need to learn how to tag on Ao3 like fr, plus i guess the extinction is pretty fuckin' coolio too, smh, the very entities that prey and feast on horror are more respectful of trans people than most humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24244534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustACapybara/pseuds/JustACapybara
Summary: Fifteen stare, Fifteen call, Fifteen beckon. Their call is so alluring. This body was never meant to be your own. They know. You do, too. All you had to do... was give in.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	The Entities and new Avatars.

**The Buried** \- You didn’t know what you expected, so deep in the earth. When you let yourself go and fell into that pit that called for you, just for you, you alone. But when rock became dirt and gave way to your slender, dried fingers, you came face to face with an underwater lake, just barely illuminated to see that the dead fingers that clenched in the dark and the face that gazed, all your features were unlike the ones that were buried. And you smiled. Oh, you would drag them all down. And maybe some would be freed as you were. And maybe others would simply learn the embrace of the earth… or die smothered by its loving embrace.

**The Vast** \- You had been falling for so, so long. At some point, you lost track of time, of space, of everything. When you finally landed back in your home, with the messy hair, torn clothes, the smell of ozone overpowering each and every one of your senses, you felt… different. And you also felt more comfortable. You have never felt more ‘you’. And it wasn’t the powers now surging through your body giving you that sensation. Why. It was your body. Looking back at it… did you enjoy the fall? Maybe others would, too. Maybe others would land like you. Most didn’t. But every attempt made you feel better about yourself. And hey, if you just kept trying, one day it was bound to happen. But mostly, it was just the sick pleasure of trapping them forever. Part of you wonders if the person you were is also there, falling. The worst part of you says it is. And you can’t contain your smile of satisfaction.

**The Hive** \- Let them in, dear. Let them bite, and rip, and shred, and bury, and nibble, and squirm, and wiggle, and change. Do you feel how they burrow so deep? Do you feel the mold creeping down your lungs, the worms inside your eyes, the bones lined with fungi and the diseases stirring up inside each organ? Do you feel the way your flesh expands and contracts and rips and reforms, the way the holes cover themselves up so no one will know what you are until it is far, far too late? This is your Chrysalis. The body you want. The body you always wanted. Embrace it. Embrace **us**.

**The Lightless Flame** \- Turns out having your body made out of a malleable object and flame is great to be able to mold yourself at will… and burn everything that was not you before. The records. The pictures. The relationships. The clothes. The people. Each fire that crackled and roared, each house you burnt to a crisp, each person that held even the mere memory of what was once you. Ash. All was ash. And you. You were you. Finally who you were meant to be.

**The Dark** \- You are the only shape visible in the quiet room where the parents slept. Your form changes. The dark envelops you, changes you, like a flickering flame made out of pure nothingness. When your voice coos out, it is not the voice that walked into that room. That voice was lost, in the light, in the flame, in the eyes of those that wish to perceive you. That shape was lost. Everything was lost. And that pleases you even more than the horror of the couple as they look at the doorframe and see absolutely nothing, but your new voice still coos out, calling, beckoning. Something is in their home. Better check it out… are they not afraid of what might wander near their children’s halls?

**The Eye** \- You don’t really know when the pills started showing up, or why you knew exactly what was in them, and the times to take them, and the dosage. But they help you see so much clearer. They make everything so much clearer. The things you have to do to become the person you were meant to be - meant for what? And by the time you realize, your body has already changed to fit your vision. And you cry tears of joy. And the knowledge of everyone’s secrets, their mortal fears… why, that’s a pretty nice bonus. Even if you do feel a bit weird, having to obsessively seek it out. But it’s also a good excuse to show off your new form, questioning strangers in the street and ripping apart their minds!

**The Web** \- They said the name you gave them was wrong. Then they said your address was wrong. Then they said you were wrong. Then they screamed. Then they said nothing. In the next few months, the building was abandoned - something about an infestation. Lots of cobwebs. The next time you went, after the spiders went away and the bodies were found, you gave them your name. And every detail was perfectly clear as if you were always this. And you always were. And no one will know otherwise. There will be no need to. All the information about who you were is gone… why, you never were them. You don’t have to pretend you were something. You’ve always been this. The spiders… just helped you make that obvious for everyone else. And those that still question you, that insult you, mock you? You give them your address and cordially invite them. They always make for the best meals.

**The Spiral** \- Glory who? Jack where? Loraine when? Names are difficult and so is time and space and existing and being and touching and staying and looking and living. Pay it no mind. Your body will be a shape that was never meant to exist because it does not, yet when you look in those accursed mirrors that are eyes, and glass, and water, and all that tries to claim you as something logical that can be deciphered… see your new shape. And smile. And show them the door, show them the paintings you have oh so carefully not made! Show them who they depict. It is you, that does not exist, and yet is here, beckoning them. Do you even need a name? If you do, make one up. It won’t be real. But it will be yours. And that is all that matters for that which is not here… but is always inside those doors that were not meant to be here, and yet are.

**The Lonely** \- After some time, everything just seemed so distant. You don’t recall when your house got so quiet, when the cars outside stopped or when the world seemed to come to a standstill in that empty evening. You spent centuries there - at least, you assume you did, by the marks on the wall counting the days, then weeks… then the years. When you finally worked up the courage to open up your door, it was a dark, cold night. Same as it was a long, long time ago. And when the homeless man asked you for change, you nearly wept as the pronouns left their mouth. Or maybe you did. Now that he’s stuck there with you, you could always ask him if you did. You haven’t seen him in a while. He has seen no one in a while, either. Maybe he’s dead. Well. There’s always a few people of a certain ilk you know that you could visit - and that you could lure into that empty, silent one-way street. Which is odd. You always remembered your street leading somewhere else. But now there are no exits. Somehow you still leave, to look for others to bring there. They never seem to meet each other. But when they plea, and start calling you by your name instead of that which you have cast away, when they call for your real name, the one you bear now… oh, you feel power like you couldn’t even imagine. And still, you trap them. It feels nice to have that ego boost in your pocket, even if eventually they go quiet, and still, like the cars outside. It’s a fun life.

**The Stranger** \- After the carnival, you felt sick. Bloated, disgusted. You passed out in your bathroom waiting for something to come out. When you woke up, you were fine. There was a lot of blood but it wasn’t yours. And a lot of pictures that showed you with a person you did not recognize. After a while of staring, the person started fading. And for some reason… oh, the joy it brought. How wonderful it was to be you… how wonderful would it be to let others experience this! No one remembered you, but you kept talking, and laughing, and touching, and eventually, no one remembered who they were! And you left them to their own devices, to look for a face that people would recognize… because it felt good to do so. But your face? Your face was your own, weirdly enough. It wasn’t until much later that you saw the freak case of a person whose face was found perfectly sliced out. You smiled. The handiwork seemed familiar. And these sharp fingers you had now… oh, so easy would it be to take, again, and again, and again. Mold. Change. Ruining the lives of those that did not accept your beautiful, beautiful self… who tried to lie that you were once something else. To carry their faces like a badge of pride, to have yours untouched, perfected. Yours. Even if, no matter what... you can't recall a single distinguishing feature of yourself in the mirror. Oh well. Better this way. No one would want to steal it.

**The Slaughter** \- No one remembers when you showed up, what job you were supposed to be working at the base, what platoon you were a part of, your credentials. They only knew your name by your dog tags. And no one questioned it when you walked back in one day from the ruins of a droned village, drenched in blood, and when you came out of the wash, the fact the body that walked in was not the one that walked out. But the dog tags were correct. And your aim was still true, and your ferocity unparalleled. It was a shame about the ambush. But the next army you find to squat in will meet you as you were supposed to always be. And deep down… you are happy that they can’t speak of who you were. Now you are a soldier. And you will always be. Woe is to the enemy, woe is to everyone that is not you, for they are in your sights. You were perfected. And now, you will abuse these powers until the sands, the lakes, the rivers, and the forests are drenched in gore. The pipes that blow in the wind assure you of that.

**The Flesh** \- The crackle and pop of bones snapping and the sloppy noise of flesh being torn asunder and reshaped was music to your ears. The wet slapping, the squealing and begging of the people you kidnapped. And when you were done butchering those who claimed you wrong, your ideals wrong, who you wanted to be wrong, you shaped their flesh into adornments for you. Their brittle bodies would die imperfect. Would always be imperfect. But you were not. And when you walked out of your room, you let everyone see the scars. The Butcher’s work. And you smiled with joy when they screamed and begged not to be taken. But you needed more meat - if you were going to help others as Meat helped you. Which meant more folk to drag into your room, and rip apart fiber by fiber, bone by bone.

**The Hunt** \- When did you realize that the person who started walking this trail was not the one that ran through it now? Was it when you first tasted the blood of prey? Was it when you howled for the first time? When you drank water out of a pond like the others? When you saw civilization again and realized what you were pursuing was not there? You don’t know. You don’t care. The thrill of the chase is a high you pursue no matter what. But it’s hard to admit that you don’t prefer this Hunter’s body over the mere cub that walked inside this valley. No, you were a different thing altogether. That was prey. You were now predator. Completely changed. Anew. You felt shivers down your spine as the realization settled… you were a new person altogether. And though that chase for something you never knew you wanted had ended… you still hungered. Maybe one day you’d have a pack, but for now - you needed prey. And the cities were full of those that deserved this. Or maybe they didn’t. Deep down, you didn’t really care. You just wanted the fear, the chase, and the meal.

**The End** \- You thought resurrection would work differently - if it even were a thing. When you died in that freak accident, it was horrifying for those mere few milliseconds that you felt everything. And then nothing. And then you woke up in that graveyard, covered in dirt, in a cold body, all grown up as if this was you all along, as if you had just woken up from a bad dream. But the scar of your demise was there, a grizzly reminder that what happened was true. You died… and were alive again. You expected doctors. You expected a caring mother to hold you dear. But all there was was the cold. And… the cold felt comforting. The cold held you dear. The cold was nice. The poor teenage hooligans defacing the cemetery were never meant to go far, anyway. Two lowlifes looking for a bit of fun before they went back to their pathetic lives. They were there for you. Almost like a gift. Their clothes too. You didn’t kill them… but the words you spoke and your touch made them slump in sorrowful defeat. And you felt happy. Because they would die. They all would die. And you, forever, would be this. Perfect. You.

**The Extinction** \- Everything is gone. Everything is gone but you. You feel weird. You feel right, in the worst of ways. Maybe it’s the rebar that makes up your bones. The steel pipes, curling to make the mockery of a ribcage. The plastic that mimics fingers, curling, and extending as if it were always melting. But maybe the weirdest was when you walked into a house, and it was fine, and the lights were on, and the street outside was alive with sounds, and the TV was not on, and a woman made herself a meal in the kitchen. Your mangled form crawled to the TV… and felt a weird sense of pride seeing that porcelain face. Everything you wanted to be. You weren’t it - not really. You weren’t flesh. But you were as real as someone who was. And when the woman’s oven blew up, rupturing a gas pipe, taking the whole neighborhood with her in the freakiest of accidents… why, when you climbed out of the broken rubble, you felt at home. And you walked away until the desolate buildings you saw were lit with light and life, and you walked in, and you watched as their world was destroyed by the things they relied upon oh so very much. And the porcelain face cracked into jagged shapes vaguely resembling a monster’s maw. Because you smiled. You were happy. This is all you wanted to be.


End file.
